


Happiness Machine

by snoozingkitten



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - D/s, M/M, Reworked timelines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 17:57:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snoozingkitten/pseuds/snoozingkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark wasn’t very good at being the model submissive, mostly didn’t approve of the whole gender-dynamic institution. He also really wanted to climb his lab partner like a tree. University AU. D/s AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happiness Machine

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Jaune_chat for the beta for this!

Tony stumbled over his feet and slammed into the door he intended to use to hold himself up. He blinked at the blue paint under his hands, stretching out his fingers a little to feel the slickness of the surface under his fingers. It was a _very_ blue door. 

Somewhere he probably had keys. Well, no. Somewhere he did have keys. Keys that fit this lock anyways. The number was a set of familiar brass edges. Besides he was like a boomerang, or a dog he always came back to the same place—thus this was his blue door and he had keys that opened it. Right. The door didn’t budge, which he figured was for the best because it was the foundation of his structural support at the moment and if it left he’d probably have to go with it. 

Tony fished in his pockets finding some gum and his shiny black visa card. His phone was actually still in the other pocket and Tony was a blurrily a little surprised about that. Phones were not something that survived more than a night with him on a day-to-day basis. It slipped out of his fingers twisting end over end and hit the cement with a loud crack but didn’t break. 

“Good boy,” Tony cooed at it blankly, putting one hand on the door to steady himself so he could bend over to pick it up again. The world swayed startlingly and he rested more of his weight on the door to compensate. 

He was just feeling triumphant about fishing his phone off the ground without falling when the door opened. He was too fucking fly to re-balance himself, instead toppling with all the grace of the senselessly sloshed against the door frame. Pain bloomed in his face suddenly before fading back into the blurry sort of softness that his whole body felt. 

“Well shit,” Tony mumbled still clutching his phone. 

“Welcome home, Tony.” 

Tony just smiled, he was sort of aware that his legs were still on the doorstep while the rest of him was on their welcome mat. 

“Charles,” Tony hummed. He rolled onto his face, refusing to let go of his phone as he pushed himself sitting. Everything lurched left wildly and he compensated by listing right only to find that at the last minute the world had switched polarities and shit he was off-balance right. Ow. Door frame again. That fucker was sturdy. 

“I swear Tony.” Charles clucked. He was a lot stronger than he looked, grabbing Tony under his arms and pulling him inside while Tony squirmed trying to get his hands off of him. Finally he managed to roll away from Charles, curling half under the front hall table. “Tony,” Charles snapped at him and Tony twisted under the table banging his knees off the legs so he could crawl away from the other side. 

“Don’t be such a Debbie Downer,” Tony said, or tried his best to; his tongue was thick and heavy and he said the words carefully, drawing each sound out and rounding it so it was perfect. Charles’ face was like a huge pale moon orbiting into his head. “I was just out and around.”

“I can see that,” Charles said and Tony was too stoned to try and figure out what his voice was supposed to mean. 

“This floor is awesome,” Tony said, he was still sort of half under the desk and sprawled across the soft carpeting of their front hall. If he rolled over far enough he’d fall into the Sub pit. Just looking at it, filled with shoes instead, lovingly set aside as it was still made his stomach roll. Suddenly the booze and those little bitter pills didn’t seem like such a good combination. 

The lights moved so fast they streaked across his retinas and Tony gagged, feeling bile jerk and dance in his stomach. 

“If you’re sick here then you have to clean it up,” Charles said, no sympathy in his soul. 

The idea of sick made him feel a little more queasy. It was an endless feedback cycle. Only a year of solid practice stopped him from emptying his stomach all over the nice carpets. Charles’ socks swam into his view. 

“You should probably throw up; god knows what you’ve taken this time.” 

Between the two of them they got Tony staggering in the right direction for the bathroom. He has actually considered moving in to the lower level bathroom in the past. It’s wide and white, smelled like bleach and burned his eyes but he made it to the toilet just in time to vomit up everything he’d eaten that day. 

Tony whined low in his throat, leaning heavily against the toilet bowl. The whole thing rumbled with the woosh of all his sick being swirled away. Tony’s throat burned and he heaved a few more times forcing it back as he clawed at the porcelain to keep steady. 

“I’m going back to bed. Please don’t drown yourself.” 

Tony moaned softly as the world fuzzed alarmingly around the edges. He threw up three more times before he passed out blissfully on the floor which was cool and supportive of his life decisions (namely being flat on his side). Somewhere he’d lost his phone anyway. 

The start to the next morning was not auspicious. 

At the very least he hadn’t woken up in a puddle of any body fluids. Tony moaned and rolled so he could press his face against a cooler bit of tile. He was sweating, pants and t-shirt sticking to his skin. His stomach rolled around in his abdominal cavity cramping with the urge to heave. On the plus side the toilet was right there. (On the negative side, sleeping on the bathroom floor? Not classy. He was officially a hussy, three strike rule.) 

Tony slithered himself out of his clothes without moving, kicking off his pants while spitting up the last of the stomach acid that tore at his throat and made him gag on the bitter taste of his own bile. The shirt came off next as he crawled the meter to the shower and poured himself in the bottom of it. He’d done this enough times to be able to reach up and twist the taps without looking. The first rush of water was cold but heated up quickly. 

Tony gasped low and then whined. God, but that felt better. He hung his head between his knees and closed his eyes. He could just sleep in here for a little. That would be okay. 

Tony woke up later to vicious banging on the door. “You haven’t drowned yourself in here have you, Freakshow?” 

“Fuck off,” Tony said, the words scraped out of his throat like glass. He coughed a few times and tried to remember how he got home last night. Things got a little spotty in V.I.P doing a shot straight from the bottle of cold vodka, feeling it light him up inside. After that things had apparently gone downhill fast if the way he felt was anything. 

“Good enough,” Raven mumbled just loud enough for him to hear over the pounding of the water. She must have wandered away because nothing followed that just blessed silence for him to listen to the ringing in his ears and the way his stomach was still trying to crawl up his throat like a traitorous beast. He could probably stay in here a little longer. It wasn’t like anyone else needed hot water. 

Tony finally crawled his way out of the shower, legs shaking under him and stood up to stare at the fogged over mirror for a few minutes before brushing his teeth. Everything sort of ached in an off-hand kind of way, joints feeling creaky and stiff, diffused sort of pain from everywhere in his brain at once and eyes that felt too dry and like they were watering at the same time. 

Clothes came on slowly, jeans and another t-shirt. Sunglasses inside because _fucking lights_. Feeling a lot more **rock star** than pond scum, Tony slunk into the kitchen. He didn’t expect Charles to be there building his shrine to geek-dom on the kitchen table, but there he was building walls of books and the academic equivalent of 60s groovy shag-carpeting in the form of endless pages of notes in his cramped, impossible-to-read handwriting. 

“You survived another night,” Charles said, voice tinted with disapproval. Tony must have been real bad if he wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it. What was left to be seen was if he was disappointed that Tony survived or that he’d been out partying in the first place. 

Tony just grinned. Hell if he could remember anyways. 

“Gotta keep ‘em on their toes,” Tony said making a bee-line for the fridge. Rows and rows of sport drink with the right balance of chemicals to help the worst of the hangover. Tony was tempted to buy a share in the company just for that. Charles looked up at him and frowned. 

“Can you eat some real food?” Charles asked at long last, look slipping from irritation to concern. Tony shrugged. His stomach twisted painfully at the thought of trying to eat anything and keeping the water down was hard enough. 

“I’ll eat later,” Tony lied through his teeth. Actually no. A cheeseburger, nothing coats your stomach like a cheeseburger. 

“Drink more. It will flush whatever you had out of your system.” Charles went back to his fortress of knowledge and Tony let the smile drop from his face. It drove him insane when Charles would take on that patronizing tone as if he were some parental figure that Tony was sorely lacking. 

They were little rich white boys, they never talked about their Daddy issues but Charles still threatened to drive Tony insane with his never-subtle suggestions. 

It was Wednesday; he’d already missed his morning class. Which was fine. He’d never actually gone to his morning class yet, while it was still early in the year he didn’t foresee this changing. It was one of the requirements for his degree, they had waved a few of them when Tony kicked up a fuss but refused to wave more and so this was a _protest_. Besides who even scheduled morning classes? It was like they were asking him not to go. 

He didn’t take instruction well anyways so the whole point was moot. He arched his back feeling all the tight places from doing god knew what. 

He’d lost Charles completely to the allure of his studies. Raven might be somewhere around the house or she might be out somewhere. Well, he could show up to the lab section he needed to do. Tony wandered back to his room to change into something that smelled a little less like vomit and to fix his hair (so it looked artfully tousled, which was totally different from absentmindedly tousled no matter how Raven or Rhodey ribbed him.) 

Charles and Tony were technically in the same year. The University hadn’t known what to do with two genius-level submissives that came from oodles and oodles of money (which was the technical term, thank you very much) and so they had been stuck together from the start. It wasn’t so bad. Chuck wasn’t a bad guy, weird, kind of creepy, and patronizing yeah, but no worse than everyone else. That and his sister was hot and liked to wander around without pants on. 

Tony shoved his sunglasses on so the bags under his eyes weren’t so very obvious. 

Phone.

“Have you seen my phone?” Tony yelled, voice echoing off the walls. 

Charles was either ignoring him or didn’t know. Tony shrugged; he’d stored all his information on a separate secure server and could easily download it into a new model of the phone. Stark Industries was still testing the servers to see if it was a viable commercial option. Tony who went through many phones in much the same way figured it was a pretty fucking viable option but the board wouldn’t listen to him. Something about being wild and unpredictable that was all code for “you’re not your dad”. All in all it only made him want to act out. It was a circle-jerk of douchebaggery. 

“Oh, there it is.” His phone had been dropped or kicked so it had skidded right up to the edge of the sub-pit. He hated that their house came with one, but it felt like a weakness to do anything but throw his shoes at it. 

The pits were there so that a sub could undress and store their clothes there and eagerly await their dominant to get home. Tony bent over snagged a pair of Converse out from under some of Raven’s boots and slipped his phone into his pocket. 

It was a horrible day for a hangover, even his sunglasses couldn’t hide how painfully cheerfully sunny it was. Like actually painfully sunny, the sky was that aching blue you only saw on postcards. Or maybe it just felt that way and Tony never really paid much attention to the sky. He would bother with that when he found a viable way for a personal flying device. 

The physics department was shiny and new, a large majority of University funding was funnelled into this wing trying to keep everything up to date. Here and there were huge banks of computer rooms filled with desperately tired students surfing social media or quietly having breakdowns. The walls were papered with reminders and lolcats, familiar academic scenery. Every campus from one ocean to the other looks the same, reeked of take-away and barely legal hormones. 

Tony was used to being shorter and younger than everyone else, slightly less legal than the average student. He skipped down the stairs, slipping into his lab section just in time. New lab, some people that looked familiar, he was so painfully glad he skipped the first year lectures because not only were they so far below him it was laughable but they had all the shittiest hand-me-down equipment, handled by the hands of thousands of not-quite-adults. Most of which were trying to function on no sleep and a hangover. 

Tony didn’t take his sunglasses off, melting against the high scarred wooden table. It was cool against his face which felt too hot. His heart was beating making his ears buzz loudly, too much energy expenditure and not enough rest, probably mildly dehydrated. 

Charles had in one of his less patronizing and more mother-henning moods had tried to explain to him just what the drugs were doing to his brain. The Fly that worked best on subs because they interfered with the pathways linked with what researchers were beginning to call the sub-space portion of the brain. It was a hot-potato topic, nature versus nurture and all that softer science logic. Give Tony Boolean logic any day. 

The actual lesson portion went by hazily. He was only here to prove to the instructor that he could do this shit in his sleep so they would exempt him from the rest of them. Apparently there was a ‘psychologist’ somewhere that was worried about his socialization. Tony figured the board was trying to slow him down because Tony was going at a pace that would rocket him to the top at warp speed and the whole pack of fat cats didn’t want him near their cream because he was a mover and a shaker. 

Between all the Dungeons and Dragons, and this one guy who was wearing an actual cape (they weren’t bad people, just had little concept of social grace and Tony was a socialite because he was never given a choice about it had he wanted to don a cape and devote his personal life to WoW), he found someone who looked like a tall glass of water in the desert. Legs that went on for miles, dark hair slicked back from his face. He was made of nothing but angles; if he were a draft Tony would have wet himself all over the specs. 

“Hello,” Tony said, trying for playful and smooth. “Lab partners?” Ignoring the fact that he was going to try and drop this as soon as possible. 

Tall and Cool gave him a long and assessing stare. Tony was aware of his baggy jeans the tight t-shirt and the wild mess of his hair, the fact that he was painfully and obviously younger than everyone else here. He squared his shoulders; old habits die hard. 

“Sure.” That was all he said, barely moving his stuff over for Tony to make a space. 

“Boy, you are in for the ride of your life,” Tony grinned, shoving his notebook into the space given to him and pouring himself into the seat. Legs gave him a level look before he shrugged liquidly. 

“As long as you don’t mess it up I don’t care what you do.” 

“You don’t know who I am, do you?” Tony teased. Legs looked faintly irritated now. 

“Should I?” Everyone was still shuffling around getting into pairs.

“I suppose it is more fun if you don’t.” 

Today was about getting to know the lab, finding your partner and filling out all the tedious safety information. 

“So what’s your name hotshot?” Tony tapped the space where Partner Name: ___________ was waiting eagerly to be filled in. Filled in hard, Tony grinned wide and unrepentant. 

“Erik Lensherr,” he said, the voice was smooth accented with hints of irritation an ensuing chaos. He sounded like he could be a good time.

“Tony Stark. I’m sure we’ll have a bomb.” 

Erik just gave him a cool, arch look. That was fine; Tony was used to taking on people who thought they were better than him. 

Admittedly the way to go about impressing Erik wasn’t to brag about how he got so hammered last night he couldn’t quite remember how he got home. _”So stoned, that’s how you see God. God is totally a sub you know.”_ That usually worked with most students, they would give him that veiled look of envy before trying to insert themselves in his good graces because Tony knew all the best parties. Erik just gave him an indifferent shrug and more cold silence. 

Lab ended and Erik gathered up his things. 

“See you next week.” 

“Joy.” Sarcasm so thick that it dripped from the single word. 

Tony gave him his best predatory smile. 

Erik was obviously a dominant. He didn’t wear any tells, not like some people did, tattoos that curled up their neck in aggressive lines as if to make themselves feel as home with their sexuality. There was a lot of study about how some people knew the orientation of others, pheromone sensitivity, some hippies harping on about energies. Mostly Tony just had an eye for these things, the more you knew about someone the better position you were in to negotiate. The better he could blend in with the other dominants (there was one or two other submissives in the lab section, but engineering was still heavily weighted towards Doms from the days of old where subs mostly held temporary jobs until they were collared).

He wasn’t the type to simper and tilt his head back; which was the _de jour_ way of indicating sexuality to new strangers. There was an article about how parents were horrified with these sort of rubber bracelets that teens were wearing, all colour coded for what kind of scenes they wanted. Tony liked to think he was above that kind of obvious desperation.

\--

Tony got into a heated argument about the lab section with the professor. Then the Dean of physics. 

A week later he was sitting in the same room, tapping his pencil against the note book and feeling vindictive. The TA probably didn’t deserve it, but she was part of the _system_ and Tony was all about fucking up the system today. 

Erik looked like fucking James Bond in a turtleneck and tight pants, all trim waist and broad shoulders. He wasn’t overly thick but he looked like he could stomp your head in regardless a kind of primitive leashed violence. Tony squinted at him and gave a lazy smile. “We meet again Mr. Bond.”

“I’m beginning to think you’re just high all the time.” Erik replied giving him a long, unimpressed look. 

Tony gave him a sharp, amused smile. “Not outside the realm of possibility, Sugarcake.” 

“Don’t call me tha,.” Erik replied with a tart little clip to his words that sounded like somewhere in Europe. 

“Honeybear? Buttercup?” 

Tony could almost hear teeth grind. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. 

“Just. Stop talking,” Erik snarled at him and Tony held both hands up trying to look innocent. 

He managed not to say anything, letting his sulky silence speak for him, just watched Erik as he began to work.

The assignment for that lab was boring. Four horrid hours of dulls-ville. So he was tinkering, almost forgot about Erik as he was playing with the equipment. 

“That’s not what we’re supposed to be doing.” Erik said blandly watching Tony’s hands instead of his face. 

“No.” Tony agreed easily. “It’s a lot more fun than what they wanted.” 

Erik snorted, neither agreement nor disagreement. Much to Tony’s surprised he actually began to help him. Now that they were actually working, Tony was surprised at how quietly competent Erik was. He was no Tony Stark, but he wasn’t nearly as stupid as most of the other people who were supposed to be his _peers_. 

They were having a silent fight, Tony using his pen to slap Erik’s fingers away when Erik grabbed his wrist and moved him out of the way. Tony bared his teeth ready to break the odd silence when the TA cut in. “That doesn’t look anything like the assignment.” 

“That’s because it’s better,” Tony answered breezily. 

Erik paused, gave Tony a long look out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t say anything, just gave the TA a blank look. That was a good one, Tony was going to have to remember that when dealing with people he didn’t like, of course he doubted it would ever work, much better to smirk and let them squirm. On Erik it just looked threatening. 

TA (name not worth remembering, he wasn’t about to debase himself by sleeping with them for marks unless they passed a certain threshold of hot, and this one was subpar) didn’t look impressed. Tony gave her what he knew was an infuriating grin. “It combines all the aspects of the unit, and most of the next four as well.” 

She glared down her nose at him for a moment before giving it up as a lost cause and going over to help someone else, (waving their arm around with a desperately lost look on their face). 

“You’re smarter than I’d given you credit for,” Tony said sounding betrayed. 

“You’re more irritating,” Erik replied with a sharp smile. There was something dangerous in that smile and Tony wanted to throw himself on it. Competence was always a turn on. 

“Say, want to get together after?” Tony let his head slip to the side just a little so he could look up through his lashes, just in case Erik had missed that Tony was a rather fetching. 

“No.”

“Why not?” Tony frowned. Well that was different. 

“Do people not turn you down?” Tony couldn’t place that expression. 

“Not really.” 

Erik just chuckled. “Not happening.” 

\--

They gave up almost entirely on doing the work they were supposed to. Tony was right, it was boring and beneath them. 

“Why do you even go to these classes?” Tony asked; he’d yet to go to a single one. He thought his protest was going well all things considered. Erik flicked Tony’s fingers away from the circuit board they were working on. “You’re obviously too smart for them.” 

“Scholarship,” Erik replied tersely. 

Tony frowned. Couldn’t imagine a world without a million dollars in pocket. 

“Shut up and get back to work,” Erik said, tone clipped and clearly uncomfortable with the subject. 

Tony made it all the way through the lab section by sinking himself into what he was working on and letting the problem labelled ‘Erik’ turn over in his mind. Find x. 

“If you sleep with me I could pay you for your time,” Tony said as they were packing everything away. Realized that maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say only as Erik’s back straightened, jaw clenching with anger. 

He snapped a hand out, grip around Tony’s wrist tight enough to hurt. Tony sucked a quick breath through his teeth and tugged on the grip, Erik’s fingers were digging into the soft underside of his wrist. He clearly hadn’t meant it in a sexual way but Tony had never understood the difference well. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Erik snarled, low and intense. 

Tony tugged on the grip, thrilled when there was no give at all. 

Erik let him go like he’d been burned and glared at Tony hard. 

“Depends on who you talk to,” Tony answered, irritated. 

Erik finished the rest of the cleaning in a terse angry silence while Tony sulked, helping lazily while Erik refused to rise to his bait but got increasingly rough with his movements.

\--

The thing a lot of people didn’t know about Charles was that if Tony didn’t know so much about the fragile balance of genius himself he’d think that he was schizophrenic. 

The bass pounded through the house, shaking the walls and thrumming through Tony’s bones comfortingly. An old friend, a warm blanket, hot coffee, a million other analogies about the things that make people feel warm and fuzzy like a Hallmark card. 

It was early still but people were getting drunk like it was a sport. Xavier parties were legendary, like he saved it all up being geeky only to hit the release valve. Raven had taken over duties as bouncer and bar tender all at once. Her domain was the kitchen where booze flowed like the Rains in Africa, as Toto would say. 

Charles himself was outside where the flip-cup tables had been set up; Lord of the Drinking Games. 

The people were an odd mix. He had no idea where Charles found them all but his friends were a grab-bag of the elite, the studious, and the debauched. Tony rarely bothered to invite anyone himself. Word would get around or it wouldn’t. The combined Xavier-Stark alcohol fund could run frosh week and probably not even notice. 

He watched a girl with long white-blond hair tilt her head back so that her hair shook and shivered like a curtain while she introduced herself, a whole bottle of wine in the other hand. The girl she was talking too gave a low smile. She had soft cafe-au-lait skin and wore a top that was cut high in front but swept low in the back exposing a surprisingly delicate wing-motif tattoo across her sharp shoulders. She gave the drunk blond sub a long, predatory once-over before Tony got bored of the show. 

He avoided dynamic sex where he could. Just because they’d evolved from primordial goop this way didn’t mean everything was about the perfect scene. He chalked it up to too many films glorifying dynamics. Borderline misogynist doms and their pursuit of a nice docile subservient sub. 

Not that Wings and Blondie looked like they were out for anything but a good time. 

Tony was hovering in that space between moody and too-sober. He wasn’t naturally very good with people and most days it was too much effort to pretend. Tony wandered the party smiling at people as he moved through the over-capacity house. People were spilling out of rooms and spilling their drinks. 

“Hit me up,” Tony murmured against Raven’s shoulder when he finally found her. 

“Wait your turn Tony,” she replied without looking at him. 

“Fuck that,” Tony shrugged, opening his own cupboard and pulling down a bottle of the good stuff. 

Things got a lot better after that. It didn’t matter what he said because he was drunk enough to blame it on that. Or that he was the youngest one here, tired of feeling like he was trying on his father’s ties and making a mess again. Things were always easier with the loving application of beer goggles. Life would be perfect if he could still build like this (all left hands and pinkie fingers; learning the hard way not to mix booze and soldering.) 

Charles was in the back, chain smoking and laughing. Among his adoring flock was a familiar face. 

“What’s a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?” Tony asked, grinning because it was funny. Erik wasn’t a nice guy, but this was a nice place. 

Erik’s long fingers tightened around the neck of his beer and he frowned. “I’m pretty sure you’re not old enough to be here.” 

“Does it bother you to know you’re partying on my dime?” he asked, trying as hard as he could to be as irritating as possible. Tony swayed forward into Erik’s space, looking up at him. 

Whatever Erik was going to say was completely bulled over by Charles throwing an arm around his shoulders and shouting, “Tony! I didn’t know you knew Erik.” Erik steadied him with a hand on his hip as Charles leaned heavily against him, drunk already but still lucid. 

“I do,” Tony said, dumbly, irritated with himself a moment after. He should have been able to think up something more witty, a little scathing. He was a fucking genius. 

“We have a class together,” Erik replied taking a long draw of his bottle. 

“Erik’s smart, I mean,” Tony added, biting his tongue after against saying anything else. There was no saving this situation, not without saying something stupid to vent the odd feeling of betrayal. “Adequate.”

Charles just laughed, loose and happy looking. Erik looked annoyed and uncomfortable. “That he is.” 

Tony didn’t even bother to say good bye, it was a party, little pockets of conversation erupted and ended just as suddenly. So he finished what was in his cup quickly as a round a cheering erupted from the flip-cup table. Tony shook his now-empty cup to show his destination and left quickly enough that it could have looked like running away if anyone had been bothering to pay attention to him. 

In the kitchen he bumped into Ty, leaning against the counter and half-listening to a conversation going on around him. “Hey Tony, want some _fly_?” 

“Sure.” 

He licked some of the crystals on his finger and washed away the taste with another sip of his vodka-sprite. What had Charles said? It activated the same neural pathways as submission did. Different pathways to the same goal or something. 

Was this why people did it? Why Charles would bend his head and let Erik push him around. String him out for hours on edge, humiliate him, tie him down and bind him up until Charles wanted nothing but whatever Erik wanted from him? It wouldn’t be Tony because Tony was a shit sub. 

Tony curled up on the couch and smiled when people talked, the sound wasn’t important. The sound waves were. If you could pack enough energy into upping the amplitude at the right frequency you could shake apart. Something. Shake it all apart. Frequency, amplitude, screaming rock music was his favourite. 

Tony felt like he was floating, his fingers and toes were there an extension of himself but oddly removed. It was as if he were operating his own body via remote control. Running on short band radio waves rather than synapses. It wasn’t a horrible thought. Being a robot must be nice. 

Impossible to be unsure of a situation, everything programmed, flipping switches, ones and zeros to a clear, logical, solution. 

“Hey.” Tony wasn’t really overly worried about anything other than the fact that the voice had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. He’d always had a bit of a thing for blue eyes. That love song; ‘ole black and blue eyes. 

“Hi yourself,” Tony murmured back, licking his lips in what felt like slow motion. It was a good thing he was mostly horizontal at the moment, puppets were not easy to make walk. 

Blue eyes, blond hair, double whammy. Tony tried to lick his lips with more intent. He couldn’t be sure he wasn’t just drooling all over himself. “Wow, you’re really stoned.” 

Tony just smiled. Rather inappropriately proud of himself. 

“Do you know where you’re going tonight?” He couldn’t be bothered to tell if the question was sexual or just curious. Either way sex couldn’t be as good as this spot and all the pleasant mellow feelings the couch gave him. 

“Charles?” he asked. 

“He left with someone a long time ago.” 

Tony couldn’t say where the flash of anger came from, just that it was big time _harshing the mellow._ Tony frowned. 

“Let’s get you to bed,” Blue Eyes told him and Tony shook his head, slowly lest it fall off.

“S’good,” he slurred. 

If Blue Eyes took that as the end of the conversation it was or if he kept talking and Tony just didn’t bother to listen, it was impossible to tell. It was just so much back ground static. 

Tony woke up the next morning curled into a tight ball shoved into the corner of their huge couch. Someone had actually tossed a blanket over him (not Raven, she didn’t have a maternal bone in her body, nor did she really see him as a sub, said didn’t liked the misogynistic view as subs being inherently weaker so why should she go out of her way to treat him like a princess? Tony was just sure she was too lazy to give a shit about him. Only cared about Charles out of some sort of familial thing.) Meaning that someone else had taken pity on him some time during the night and covered him up. 

The DJ was sleeping on the floor, curled around a pillow, ginger hair mashed up against the shoulder of a blond that Tony didn’t recognize. He was shirtless, and not entirely unattractive. Carefully Tony uncurled himself and stretched out along the couch, sighing softly as his head throbbed. 

He was sweaty all over and felt a little sick. Another morning for the shower then. 

It took somewhere between three and four hours of hiding in his bedroom to feel remotely human again. 

DJ and Blondie were sitting at the table looking tired and a little blurry. Raven was leaning hard against a lady Tony didn’t recognize either. Charles was nowhere to be seen this fine morning after. 

“Coffee,” Tony whined as pathetically as he could, picking his way through the mess of empty 2L bottles and various other post-party detritus. The floor actually stuck to his feet as he walked. 

It was actually Blondie (Alex if memory served him correctly) who poured him a glass and slid it across the table. 

\-- 

“So, you and Charles,” Tony began, watching Erik, because he had yet to learn the three Rs: repress, reflect, and redirect.

“No,” Erik said simply, looking cross. 

“’No, I’m sleeping with Charles’ or ‘No, Tony don’t touch that’? I mean, I guess Charles is sort of hot if you’re into that. He dresses like an old guy.” He did have a nice mouth, Tony could appreciate that from a purely scientific stance. “If you like nerds.” 

Erik snorted at him. Tony just gave him a cocky grin, not really subtle. 

“No, as in, it’s none of your business.” He paused for a long time, looked a lot like he wasn’t going to add to that when he did speak again. “Charles and I aren’t like that. We’re just friends.” 

Charles was always trying to explain that to Raven, that Subs and Doms could be friends without it being weird. Raven just called him a slut. Which to be fair, Charles was a slut and Tony hadn’t really believed him anyways. 

“So you’re single then.” Tony gave him a flirty smile. 

Erik shook his head twice, but managed a small smile. “Give it up brat.” 

“Come _on._ ” Tony was attractive in a off-beat sense, the bare blocks were there, under the endless rock-set of band t-shirts and jeans. He had seen the porn, knew that doms got off on the idea of a younger sub, someone who could be trained to suit you. It sounded like a really bad idea practically-- porn was never known to be a font of good ideas. “At least tell me why you’re shooting me down. I can be accommodating.” 

Erik sighed, not sounding defeated in the least but like if he didn’t find a way to vent he was going to slam Tony’s face on the table. Which would not be a totally unwelcome turn of events. 

“Seriously. Leave it.” 

“Did you leave with anyone at the party?” 

“Is everything about sex with you?” Erik countered. Tony shrugged loosely, pretty much-- yeah. 

“Just curious.” 

Tony pulled out a notebook and began to draft in thick rough lines. They had pretty much brought their project to the end of what it could do. Erik pulled out the sheet of problems they had to turn in this week and began to work.

It wasn’t a surprise when they were the first ones done that week. The TA didn’t say anything when Tony handed in his own sheet (done sitting out in the hall before the lab began and not even a little challenging.)

There was always something to be done. He was seriously thinking about trying to map human brain function onto a computer program. Stealing Charles’ text books when he wasn’t looking, to see if any of them could explain adequately neural patterning (short answer: _no_ ). A functional approach to AI building as opposed to a top down method. Most people said it was impossible but he was getting really sick of listening to all the things that he couldn’t do. 

“Stark. Wait.” 

He paused on a step, spinning on his heels to watch Erik stride towards him. The hallways in the lab wing of the physics department were vacant; they were getting to the end of the term and everyone was out giving it one last hurrah before exams. It gave the faded posters and scratched floor an almost intimate feel when combined with the low light emit by energy-saving light bulbs. 

“What’s up?” Tony rocked forward on his toes and then back onto his heels. Standing side by side without anything else to focus on, it was a little hard not to think about just how tall Erik was. He loomed, didn’t stand like a normal person, but like he was holding his height against you. 

“I don’t really want to talk about this,” he said in a rush. “I don’t—I don’t like dominating people.” 

The words were clipped as if, if he only kept them short he could snag them out of the air again when he needed to.

“Oh?” Well this was interesting. 

“It doesn’t end well.” 

“Sex always ends well,” Tony said, licking at his teeth. This wasn’t sounding like a no. His whole life had been a practice in digging his nails into ‘not quite no’s and prying them open until there was space for him inside.’ “You can’t be doing it _that_ wrong.” 

Erik snarled making an aborted movement for him, visibly tense. “I’ve never met anyone more infuriating.” Considering he knew Charles that was either an insult or a compliment.

Tony just grinned at him. “It takes effort. Come on, you want to hit me right?” 

“I’m not going to hit you, and I’m not going to sleep with you.” 

“Pity. It could have been fun.” Tony felt hot all over, stomach twisting with a sort of half terrified fear that he would convince Erik to sleep with and wanting with the same sort of desperate need that reminded him of being six and lonely all over again. 

“See you later.” Tony hummed over his shoulder as he left. 

Whatever, it didn’t matter, his hands feeling shaky with confrontation. Being petty when he wanted was all part of Little Rich Boy Syndrome. 

Tony’s breath shattered sharply when Erik shoved him against the wall, growling low in his chest. “Stop talking and listen to me.” 

“This is promising.” Tony sighed. He felt hot all over, and wow, Erik was actually much taller than him. 

Erik snarled something wordless, shoving off Tony like he was burned by him. “Sorry,” he bit out. “That was out of line.” Using your dynamic outside of the bedroom was frowned upon, there were movements being lobbied by the Equal Submissives for getting just that kind of behaviour classed as sexual molestation. The dominant heavy government system was slow to move on it, didn’t submissives like that? _That’s why they were submissive._

Tony let the wall hold his weight. Pushing his shoulders back and hips out shamelessly. Subtlety was for other people. 

“But fun.” 

\--

It was possible that he had no idea what he was doing. Tony tapped his fingers along the small reading desk pushed against one wall. He’d already mapped out the dimensions of Erik’s small apartment but was going over them again. 

Pushing and pushing, he always wanted more attention. Tony should have just left well enough alone. He had physics, that should have been enough. Sex was easy, that was instinct. Like finding his dick for the first time. They (haughty scholars with degrees in social science-- like that was an actual science) say one’s dynamic was an extension of that, pleasure centres to light up and all that. _Fly_ worked on the same area of the brain. 

Tony just really hated being told what to do. 

“You should probably just go home.” Erik said. He was sitting on the low couch. He wasn’t very good at this whole hook-up thing for someone that stupidly attractive. It was like watching Bambi try and find his footing at the beginning of the film. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Tony replied with a lot more bravado than he felt. If the board, his father, and years at boarding school had taught him anything it was ‘fake it until you make it’. 

“I mean it,” Erik said, rubbing his hands on his jeans, long fingers catching Tony’s eye and keeping them. Potential unspooling along with his doubts. 

“Nope, I tend to get what I want.” Cut to the chase, Tony managed an inelegant sprawl on Erik’s lap, mostly because Erik wasn’t making it easy for him, arms crossed over his chest and trying to maintain a proper distance between them. “You’re not making it easy,” Tony said with a breathless little laugh. 

“You don’t like easy,” Erik replied. True enough. Their first kiss was nothing like Tony expected it to be. Erik’s lips were soft and yielding, tilting his head back so Tony could get a better angle licking into his mouth. 

Strong fingers on his hips held him in place but that was the only place Erik was actively participating. He was letting Tony lead the kisses, Tony’s fingers on his amazing cheek bones, fingering the sharp curves to find out if they felt anything like they looked. He used that grip to push, to see how far Erik would let him go. Gripping his jaw he forced the kiss deeper, fucking Erik’s mouth with his tongue. 

He was half hard just from the kissing, (he was young and would never admit it but just about anything related to sex turned him on) and rubbing himself against Erik’s flat stomach lazily. He could feel the hot rise of Erik pressing against his ass. 

Still he didn’t do anything, just rocked shallowly and dug his fingers into Tony’s hips. 

“I’m pretty sure you’re doing this wrong.” Tony breathed against Erik’s mouth because he didn’t know well enough when to keep his stupid mouth shut. They could probably both get off like this and no one would lose face. 

Faster than Tony could follow with Erik grabbed his jaw and forced his head away. Tony tensed, just barely keeping himself from topping over as his head was forced back, back arched and digging his nails into Erik’s shoulders to hold on. Whatever Tony was about to say was strangled in his throat. 

Erik tightened his fingers, points digging into Tony’s cheeks, his breathing stuttered to a complete stop, shocked. 

“Ah,” Tony managed, just a soft confused sound.

“Don’t push me.” Erik hissed. Tony whined, forcing his back to arch a little, pushing into the touch.

“God you’re annoying,” Erik growled, leaning forward and sliding his other hand around Tony’s lower back to support him. Tony dug his knees into the couch to stop from letting Erik take too much of his weight. 

“Your safe word is _magnets_ ,” Erik said, forcing Tony to look at him. 

Tony grinned as cheekily as he could with Erik’s fingertips pressing into his jaw. “ _’How do they work?’_ ” 

“Do you understand me?” Erik shook him gently, like one would a misbehaving dog. Tony nodded slowly. He had to wonder if Erik could feel his pulse racing. He probably could. Tony swallowed thickly and watched Erik carefully. “Say it.” Erik shook him again, rougher this time. 

“My safe word is magnets,” Tony repeated. He was caught somewhere between terrified and stupidly turned on. 

“Good.” Erik shifted his grip so he could press his thumb into Tony’s mouth. “Here’s the plan. I’m going to tie you up and stretch you out with a dildo, and then we’re going to see if you can put that mouth to better use. If I’m satisfied I’ll fuck you, if I’m not then you’ll get nothing. Blink twice for yes.” 

Tony blinked twice. 

Erik removed his finger first, rubbing it clean on Tony’s shirt casually. “Very good. Strip and go into the bedroom.” With that Erik let him go. 

Tony considered this for a moment. There had been no time qualifiers with that statement so he dipped his head low to kiss Erik slowly. He grabbed at Erik’s wrists when he tried to stop him and used the fact that he was on top to drop his weight pinning him. 

“You’re such a brat,” Erik grumbled, mouth swollen and wet; it was a good look for him. 

Tony hummed, slipped off of Erik’s lap and pulled his shirt over his head. As casually as he could he flung it at Erik’s face. 

“I’m going to make you pay for that,” Erik snarled as Tony vanished into his room. 

It was easy to pretend his fingers weren’t shaking while he took of his pants. Of course he knew what he was doing. Every sub knew what they were doing, it’s _instinct_ , right? Tony kicked off his pants and hooked a finger in his socks to pull them off one at a time. This was familiar, getting undressed with the intent of bumping uglies. Tab A, slot B, you didn’t need to be a genius to work that one out.

“Bend over the bed and present.” Erik sounded too close and too far and Tony was thinking too fast to figure out which one it was, thoughts stumbling over each other and tangling. Slowly he clambered onto the bed, dipping his head between his arms and breathing slowly through his mouth. 

“Good,” Erik hummed, running a warm hand down one of Tony’s thighs and then up the other. He tapped the inside of one thigh, not a slap but for all that it startled Tony, it should have been. “Wider.” 

Spreading his knees a little wider, enough to feel the strain in his hips and to leave him completely exposed, the air from the room cool on his hole. 

“Can you hold it there?” Erik asked, further away this time. 

“Is the theory of relativity e=mc^2?” Tony asked back, using the time to adjust feel the stretch in his knees and curl and uncurl his toes a few times. 

“You’re not going to shut up are you?” Erik asked, the bed dipped with his added weight and then shifted again as he left to gather more things.

“Probably not,” Tony agreed easily. “Are you going to do something about it?” Tony asked drawing the words like a line in the dirt.

“Don’t tempt me,” Erik replied with a light pinch to the inside of Tony’s thigh. He grunted, dipping his back and pushing forward to escape.

The lube was cold and Tony gasped, trapping the sound behind his teeth. Spread the way he was there wasn’t much he could do, clenching tightly. “Warn a guy next time,” Tony bitched, wiggling his hips a little until Erik smacked him, an open handed hit to the meat of his ass. It made something tangle in Tony’s stomach, a jolt not unlike a static shock. He quieted a little, focusing on the brush of a finger over his hole. Again and again, rubbing without pushing inside until Tony was focused on nothing but the tingle and the tease. 

“Come on,” he breathed, “I can take more than that.” 

“You’ll take what I want you to take.” 

Tony frowned and pushed back on the faint pressure, not enough to stretching him out, just tease at the rim. This earned him another slap, mostly sound followed by a soft, almost comforting, rush of heat. 

Erik’s fingers vanished. One hand returned rubbing slow circles on his back, something hard pressed, pushing just inside and forcing him open. Tony whined, pushing his face into his arm and shifting forward to ease some of the pressure. 

It didn’t let up, opening him up so he was riding a fine line of almost-too-much-oh-god, and breathing shallow because there wasn’t enough space inside of him for air and _that_. He was splayed too wide to pull his knees in, and they slid across the sheet, trying anyways. It pulled out and Tony moaned softly, letting the tension out of his shoulders and thighs, taking a shuddering breath. 

“Colour?” Erik asked, rubbing the slim dildo down the crease of his ass to slide slick and warm against his balls and then back up again. 

“Green,” Tony said. 

“Good boy.” 

Being ready for it didn’t help at all with the way it was trying to take him apart from the inside. Tony whined, clutching at the sheets as it pressed deeper this time. 

“Good. There, take it,” Erik murmured, breath hot against his ass and Tony whined. 

The intense slide of it got easier as he was forced to relax and open up. Erik was far smarter than Tony gave him credit for because he set up a quick pace, finding just the right angle that had Tony whining high in his throat unable to stop himself. Being battered from the inside, being rubbed by curious fingers where he was raw and stretched. 

“Hold it in and roll over.” Erik demanded, stuffed full it took a few moments for the command to sink in. Tony swallowed. 

“It’s not going to—“ he panted, eyes pressed shut. 

“Try.” 

Moving slowly, pulling his knees in together, shifting the toy inside him and making him all too aware of the weight of it, and terrified that he could feel it sliding out. Moving slowly wasn’t helping, he was losing it so Tony rolled himself quickly, landing on his back with an arch that pushed it back inside sharply and had him gasping, eyes pressed shut and mouth working soundlessly. 

Erik hummed, sounded amused. “Very good. Hands up on the headboard – don’t move them until I say you can.”

It stretched the sides of his chest open, leaving him again exposed and vulnerable. Tony huffed at the sense of vicious amusement in Erik’s eyes. Sticky fingers on the backs of his knees, casually spreading them so he could reach for the handle of the toy again. 

Erik effortlessly kept him open like that, pushing himself into the space between Tony’s thighs and crouching over him like a bird. Tony pressed his eyes shut, mouth falling open as Erik got one slick hand around his dick and began to thumb the head. 

Embarrassingly fast he was right on the edge, teased from both ends with a rough hard friction that left him helpless to do anything but wriggle, clutching the headboard until it creaked under the strain of his grip.

“I can’t,” Tony said between his teeth, holding himself on the edge until it hurt. He wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. 

“Most subs practice holding,” Erik said almost conversationally. He paused, but only to roll his balls as if feeling out how tight they were himself. Tony sobbed, biting in to his bicep to focus himself. 

“Please,” Tony moaned. 

“You can come.” 

It still took Tony a long moment to unclench enough to really let go. Pushing his heels into the bed his toes curled and he tried to pull his knees together. It dragged out from his stomach, twisting harder and harder, too much. Tony made a wordless sound unable to pull enough air into his lungs. Erik didn’t let up, the pleasure edging over into pain seamlessly, slick hand on his cock and hard plastic stuffed in his ass. Erik’s shoulders were in the way of curling up to protect his sensitive dick, using his body to keep Tony in place. 

“Oh god. No, stop,” Tony sobbed, twisting sideways and shoved back roughly onto his back. 

He couldn’t, it _hurt_ , sensation so intense that he actually couldn’t breathe through it. He kicked his heels at Erik, trying to make it stop. The moments before it did seemed to stretch on forever. Even after it was over Tony felt over-sensitized twitching and trying to pull his limbs in. Somehow miraculously still holding onto the headboard but he’d used that grip to pull himself up on the bed a few inches. 

Panting and limp Tony swore under his breath. “You fucking _sadist_.” 

“If you’re still being smart with me, I’m not done with you.”

“That a promise?” Tony smirked at him. 

“More of a threat.” Erik sat back on his heels. He was obviously hard under his boxers, tenting them obscenely so the slick head of his dick peeked out. 

“Big words,” Tony lied. He felt like a limp noodle already. 

“Up.”Erik slapped the side of his thigh and Tony rolled away from it with a jolt. 

It took a bit of effort to gather the coordination needed to raise himself up on his arms. 

“On the floor, kneel.” 

Tony considered the distance between himself and the edge of the bed, the bed and the floor and all the variables in between against what Erik wanted from him. Slowly he rolled across until he was at the edge and slithered to the floor. 

“You’re pathetic.” Erik laughed, Tony watched him move around the room again. He stopped next to Tony holding a pair of cuffs. “You know what to do with these?” 

“What kind of n00b do you think I am?” Tony grumbled, he attached the first one himself, adjusting it so that it wasn’t pinching anything and held it up for Erik to do the second. Long fingers worked the buckle until the padded leather was tight around both of his wrists, hands held in place thumbs pressed together. Wide enough that they limited how much he could rotate his wrists. 

“Try to get out of them.” 

Tony looked up at him, licked his bottom lip. Being overly casual about it he tried to tug them apart. The clasps that fastened them together looked small and delicate but there was no give at all. Shuddering, Tony tried a little harder, even when he twisted and put his shoulders into it there was no escape unless Erik unbuckled one first. He couldn’t stop tugging at them. It was too soon to get hard again, the effort almost pained him, his cock and balls aching. 

“There.” Erik pet through his hair, obviously patronizing but Tony couldn’t spare the attention to care, too wrapped up in the cuffs. 

Erik grabbed his chin, forcing his head back and up so that Erik was looking down at him, looming taller than ever. Tony’s mouth worked for a moment, trying to pick out something to say from the jumble in his head. 

“I want you to bend over the bed, arms stretched out in front. Get comfy, you’re going to be there for awhile.” Erik reached past him to grab a pillow and threw it down.

Tony tensed and relaxed, pressed his eyes closed and stretched out on the bed so it was supporting his chest, shifting his knees until he was supported on the pillow, ass sticking out again. 

“Erik?” Tony asked when he had been left there for awhile, just on the edge of actually squirming with anticipation. Erik hummed a non-answer while Tony shifted on his knees. Sleeping pillows were a far cry from kneeling pillows. 

“On a scale of 1 to 10 what’s your pain threshold?” Erik asked. 

“I can take what you can give,” Tony replied, it sounded a lot better than ‘no idea’. 

“Fine then, count out loud for me.”

The flogger hit with an even spread, hard enough to make a sound but without any real bite. “One.” Tony mumbled into the bed spread tasting fabric softener with each inhale. 

The entire set of ten were mostly the same, evenly spread out across his ass and upper thighs, not too hard. The gap of time between them was just enough for the rush of warmth from the last one to fade, enough time between them for Tony to prepare for the next. 

“Ten,” Tony groaned softly. His ass felt hot, not painful but overly sensitive to the hand that Erik ran over it. 

“One more set of ten. Continue to count them for me.” 

He’d expected them to be harder, but it still made him jump and jerk, the tresses curling and snapping against his skin that bloomed into a white-hot pain almost instantly. Tony swore, tugging on his wrists on instinct, shocked when there was no give, his dick jumping as his brain actually scrambled to process all the confliction sensations. 

“I said _count_ ,” Erik snarled at him. 

“One,” Tony panted. The next slap hit even as he was speaking, cutting him off with a sharp sound. “Two,” came out on a shout. 

They continued on like that, for all that the first ten were steady these were varied, following a pattern he couldn’t grasp and refusing to give him time to prepare for the next stinging slap. Counting out loud was automatic; he was still tensed, waiting for the next one to fall even as he finished calling out the tenth. It was all he could do to keep himself still. 

“Very good,” Erik spoke low, voice sounding like it was dragged out of him over gravel, accent dipping into something else entirely. Tony whined softly, he rested all his weight on the bed. He was hard again, impossibly so. “This next bit is going to really hurt,” Erik promised with a glide of his hand down Tony’s flank. Tony hunched his shoulders as much as he could. “Tell me you understand.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Tony agreed softly fuzzily amused by the fact that he should be more worried. 

He licked his lips and waited for whatever Erik was going to do. The whistle came a second before the first hit. The riding crop hit with a tiny sound that was totally at odds with the way it felt. Tony shouted, pushing away and trying to hide from the pain but unable to do anything but wait out the sting. It faded to a hot throb but only after it drew out, sensitivity making his entire ass throb. 

By the third hard slap Tony was shouting as it bit into his skin, wordless and pained. 

By the fifth he was almost sobbing. The sting was the worst, that breathless pause between the sound and the pain before it sluggishly faded into something bearable. Tony hiccupped, fingers curling and uncurling in the bed spread. “That one broke the skin along the edge.” Erik told him, he sounded almost pleased about this. Erik traced a shape high on the top of his ass making the cut ache and sting. “Colour?” 

“Green,” Tony breathed. No idea if he could take more, but _fuck it_ he wasn’t screwing this up, he wanted Erik to sound pleased. 

That got him two more swift hits, one riding just on the crest of the other until Tony was writhing, pulling on the cuffs and whining high in his throat shaking and twisting as he rode the flare of pain out. 

Panting and limp against the bed Tony could only moan, caught between pleasure and discomfort, when Erik draped himself over his back. His cock nudged between Tony’s legs rubbing over his slick hole in a cruel tease, but the slide of skin was glorious for all the ways it hurt. Long fingers curled around his hips pushing him so he was curled completely under Erik’s body the heat of his skin making the welts flare. 

A little bit of wiggling had Tony leaning back on Erik’s chest and sitting in his lap, hissing with discomfort and wriggling, arms tightened around his chest holding him still.

“Behave.” Erik snarled at him and Tony whined, stilling himself through force of will. It didn’t last once Erik got a hand around his dick, thrusting up into the heat of it and squirming. Erik didn’t say anything this time, just pressed his cheek against Tony’s ear and let him ride his hand holding him mostly in place with a bruising grip. 

It took longer this time, a second orgasm pulled out of him forcefully as he wailed, pulling at the cuffs and curling his toes into the carpet. The hot burn of his bruises should have been distracting, instead only sharpened the pleasure until it was enough to cut through him. 

Tony came all over himself and Erik’s hand. Shuddering and too tight, curling himself in a ball. This time Erik didn’t push him, and for that he was pathetically grateful he felt raw and close, it had already been too much already, like he might shatter completely.

Tony was still shaking minutely when Erik pushed him off, collapsing against the bed in a heap, he couldn’t bring his hands up to catch himself—at least it was a soft landing. 

“Come here.” Erik didn’t give him much time. Not enough to really pull himself together.

The three or four steps between them seemed like far too much. Erik was watching him, standing tall completely naked and predatory. He wanted that all over again, the greed of a born and bred capitalist. Pulling his hands close to his chest Tony pushed himself up until he could shuffle on his knees. 

He felt watery and off balance-- but determined. Without his hands to help him Tony needed to move slowly to cover even that much distance. He leaned forward against Erik’s knees, the skin just on the inside of one of his knees was bare of any hair, rubbed away over time by his pants and Tony focused on that spot. Anything else was too much. He pushed his cheek against Erik’s thigh revelling in the sensation. 

“Colour?” Erik asked. 

“Green,” Tony parroted. 

“You’re going to do one last thing for me.” 

Tony nodded, rubbing his cheek and taking a simple pleasure from the touch. 

“Open your mouth.” Erik’s fingers pressed against his lips and Tony let his lips go loose, fingers feeling out the edges of teeth and toying with his tongue. “Just like that. Keep nice and loose.”

Hands on his jaw and another hand in his hair had Tony tipping his head back making him sit up under his own power, heels digging into the bruises forming on his ass. He kept his lips lax as Erik fed him his cock. Tony moaned shamelessly around it, the sweet slide of skin over his lips and the weight of the blunt head dragging along the flat of his tongue. 

Without hands he couldn’t brace himself on Erik’s thighs, couldn’t exert the smallest bit of control over the situation. Just tip his head back and let Erik rock gently into his mouth. Erik was well hung, forcing his jaw open to accommodate him. 

Long fingers probed at his cheeks like Erik was trying to see if he could feel himself in there. Tony choked when he slid deeper, throat clicking as he fought with his gag reflex, desperately wanting to keep him there. He held it for a moment before Erik lifted Tony’s head off of his cock. He breathed deeply, licking at the Erik’s balls, nosing at his hip. He waited a few beats before pushing into his mouth again

They set up a pattern like that, Erik fucking his throat for long stretches until Tony couldn’t breathe anymore, choking on his dick and loving it. Only to be given a few desperate breaths, chin covered in thick saliva as he licked at his swollen lips, eyes watering from having his airways cut off. Repeating over and over until Tony’s throat ached, his lips felt bruised and he was content to sit here and take it as long as Erik wanted him too. 

“More,” Erik rumbled. Tony stared at him. Erik was flushed, lips bitten raw like he was the one close to shattering. Tony pushed forward as much as the fist in his hair would let him so he could suck on just the tip, pushing his tongue around and toying with the circumcision scar. “Just, _fuck_.” 

Tony hummed. This was what he wanted, Erik cursing above him. 

Erik snarled something wordless at him. Tony’s nails bit into the meat of his hands, head tipped back and throat stretched open as wide as it could go around Erik’s dick. He wasn’t holding back, and Tony moaned, squirming where he sat he was so turned on, even if there was no way he was coming again this soon not without breaking something, grinding his ass against the fresh bruises and welts. 

When Erik came it was with a bitten off curse, tugging on Tony’s hair hard he pushed in until Tony’s nose was mashed against his stomach, public hair tickling his lips. There was no way he could swallow it all, not like this. 

Tony coughed, spraying Erik’s thighs with saliva and come as well as getting it all over his face, heaving and coughing in equal measure. He was still clearing his throat, trying to swallow as Erik’s finger carded through his hair, soothing away the ache. “Good boy,” Erik said, and it sounded almost fond. 

Tony felt oddly detached about Erik carefully removing the cuffs, rotating each one of his hands in turn trying to work out the stiffness. He was led to the bed where he curled up on his side, Erik’s hands running over the welts on his ass. 

“I’m going to shower. I need _space_ ,” Erik stuttered over the words, fingers toying with a bit Tony’s hair. “Stay, yell if you need something.” 

Tony hummed in agreement, closed his eyes and let himself drift. 

\--

Erik moved his bishop after a long pause to contemplate the move it was a risky trap, easy to get out of if Charles happened to see it coming. The sun was shining, and the birds were in the trees singing, it should have been a lovely day. Charles could always be counted on to ruin lovely days. 

“This is why I told you to stay away from him,” Charles said in a tone that was designed to irritate Erik, or so it seemed. He knew for a fact that it irritated just about everyone. Raven hated it, being the younger sibling she felt the need to find a dominant role model and seemed to have latched onto Erik, no matter how bad an idea it was. She also had never told Erik she was actually a switch; Charles was wilfully blind about the subject. 

It had been wrong to ask about Tony. Erik just wanted to make sure he was okay. They weren’t avoiding each other but no one was going to go out of their way to make contact. Not Erik anyways. 

“Forget I asked,” Erik sighed. “You’re move. Shut up and play.” 

“Don’t rush me.” Charles frowned at the board. It was possible he didn’t notice Erik’s trap. “Tony’s fine. You shook him up a little bit, but he seems to be doing fine. I don’t think he’d actually submitted to anyone before.” 

Erik bit back a curse, and the most inappropriate flash of smug lust. This was why he didn’t like indulging in his dynamic. The loss of his own control, he had wanted to push and push until Tony did anything he asked. The very act of _trusting_ someone else to know their own limits (even after when he realized they obviously didn’t). The kid was an idiot. 

All the geniuses he knew were idiots. 

“He’s not a very good sub,” Charles continued blithely.

“He was fine,” Erik replied almost instantly, neither the one to kiss and tell nor brag but defending Tony anyways. Charles looked a little surprised by this. 

“I can’t picture it,” he shrugged, “so inexperienced.” 

“Not all subs are whores like you.” 

Charles gave him a fake pout that soon dissolved into a smile.


End file.
